Ferelden Man
by Papercut Peterson
Summary: This is the tale of what happens when Anders finds himself suddenly and inexplicably immersed in the modern day world. Sort of my reverse take on the "modern day person finds themselves suddenly and inexplicably immersed in the world of Dragon Age" genre. My first fic, so please be gentle!
1. Chapter 1

**I was on my couch, in the middle of yet another play through of Dragon Age 2, happily settled in my favorite comfy spot on the sofa and snuggled warmly under a blanket to fend off the surprisingly cold weather. It was winter, but Florida winters were rarely this cold. A thunderstorm raged as I worked my way through the various quests in the second act of the game, happily oblivious to the severe weather outside. My friends had called earlier, trying to convince me to go out with them, but I couldn't imagine anywhere I would rather be on this cold, stormy Friday night than right where I was.**

**Lightning struck somewhere nearby and was followed immediately by an impossibly loud clap of thunder, giving me pause. I wondered if I should turn off the PS3, not wanting my only gaming system to be fried by lightning, but not wanting to stop playing, either. After a brief pause in which the only sound from outside was the rain falling on my metal carport, I continued the game.**

**I was pleased with my progress this play through. Marian Hawke was a fairly badass dual-wielding rogue, currently wandering through Hightown at night and taking out bandits with Sebastian, Fenris and Anders. I finished a fight, searched the bodies and then took a moment to set aside the controller and stretch, finding myself growing sleepy. The soft patter of the rain was lulling me into a drowsy state, and I leaned back into the sofa, closing my eyes. Within a few minutes I was sound asleep.**

**I was ripped from sleep sometime later by a very near lightning strike. Seconds after opening my eyes the house was plunged into darkness as the power went out. Tired and bewildered, I sat up and was rubbing my eyes when I noticed an odd smell. I scrambled for my (thankfully fully charged) cell phone in the dark, finding it and switching on the flashlight function.**

**I was horrified to see the room filled with what appeared to be thick smoke, but what mystified by its' presence because the room didn't smell of fire or smoke. As i shined my light around the room the smoke (mist? fog?) was already dissipating in the air but seemed to be settling on the floor. I decided to grab the fire extinguisher anyway and take a look around the rest of the house and started heading towards the kitchen,distracted by the way the smoke completely obscured my shins and feet as I walked through it. Suddenly I stumbled over something on the floor, dropping my cell phone and only source of light into the dark, swirling smoke.**

**"Damn it!" I bent down and fumbled for the phone. It had, of course, landed flashlight part down, so it wasn't immediately visible. I finally found the phone and picked it up, aiming it at whatever I had tripped over, and immediately stated trembling when I noticed it was a boot-shod foot. **

**I backed away from the person lying prone on the floor, my heart racing, gripped with fear. Had someone broken into the house and been electrocuted by the lightning strike? I cautiously stood up and edged around the room, keeping the light from my phone pointed in the intruder's direction as I went. I made for the front door, easing it open and slipping outside.**

**The first thing i noticed outside was a fried, electric ozone-y smell from the lightning strike, followed by how very cold and nasty the weather was. The storm was still raging, rain coming in at me sideways as I huddled near the door, light still pointing through the screen door at the mist-shrouded figure on the floor. I wanted to keep the prone trespasser illuminated, but needed to use the phone to call for help.**

**After one last, long look inside, I shut off the flashlight and pulled up my keypad to dial 911. The wind whipped the rain in different directions, soaking the legs of my flannel pajamas as I pressed myself against the wall, shivering from the damp and cold. I dialed and moved the phone to my ear, praying that whoever was inside was still out cold. The phone made two flat beeping sounds, and when I looked at the screen it was flashing "NO SERVICE".**

**"Oh, God, no. Roam! ROAM!" I ordered the device, desperately pulling up menus in an attempt to get the phone to find service somewhere, anywhere. I was cold, wet and alone, there was a strange person out cold on my living room floor, and that's not even mentioning the inexplicable misty fog stuff that filled the house.**

**I went back to the door and, hands shaking, turned the flashlight back on again and shined it through the door, searching for the figure on the floor again. My heart plummeted when i saw that the mist/smoke/fog had mostly cleared, and the person on the floor was no longer there. Instead there was someone standing but doubled over near the couch, coughing harshly, leaning for leverage on something long and narrow that I couldn't make out in the darkness. ****_Gun, most likely, probably a rifle_****, the worst case scenario pessimist in my mind told me helpfully.**

**I quickly turned off the flashlight in the hopes of avoiding notice and looked at the phone again, the dreaded 'NO SERVICE' now flashing in my notification bar. I deliberated on my next course of action and finally decided to run to a neighbor's house, to see if they had service on their phone. I started quietly working my way down the porch, hoping the weirdo hacking up a lung on my sofa was too distracted to notice me . I was almost off the porch when the person inside the house called out, freezing me in my tracks.**

**"Is someone there?" the voice said, weak and plaintively. "Please, if someone is there, speak up." Man's voice, I noted, still not moving. British accent. Vaguely familiar, but now didn't seem the time to wonder where I had heard my burglar's voice before. "Please." the man said again, followed by another coughing spell.**

**Against my better judgement, I slowly moved back towards the door, peering inside, still unable to make anything out in the darkness. "I'm going to turn on a light." I announced, pleased that my voice didn't reflect how utterly terrified I felt. "If you make one threatening move, I'm going to scream for help. Do. Not. Move."**

**"I wont." the man said, then coughed again. My hands shook as I unlocked my phone to turn on the flashlight again, wondering what on God's green earth I thought i was doing. Man breaks into ****_my_**** house, and ****_I'm_**** going back to make sure ****_he's_**** OK? Clearly I've lost it. I finally managed to get the flashlight on again and shined it through the door. The light finally caught the figure standing by my sofa, and what I saw was so unlikely, so completely and utterly ludicrous that my breath caught in my throat and I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. I finally settled on an incredulous laugh, because I knew this man, and I uttered his name. "Anders?!"**

**At the sound of his name he instinctively pointed his staff at me, and I immediately threw myself away from the door, positioning myself against the brick between the door and window, which I hoped whatever magic he had been planning to sling at me couldn't penetrate. What the hell, I thought to myself, feeling hysterical laughter bubbling up in my throat. Anders. In my living room.**

**I'm asleep and dreaming, I decided, a pleasant explanation for the evening's events. Or, maybe I've gone crazy, I considered darkly. Or else I'm dead and in some sort of weird gamer heaven. Although I felt that a right and just God would know that my idea of gamer heaven would have featured Fenris, of whom I was much fonder of in my play-throughs. Broody as the tattooed elf might be, I still preferred him to an obsessed and tormented Anders, especially the third act Anders who turned into a mysterious, moody, deceitful..._terrorist_, for lack of a better word. Also acceptable and preferable to Anders would have been the devout-yet-worldly Sebastian, with his sexy accent and piercing blue eyes. But Anders? Ick. Maybe this was gamer hell, instead.**

**It was then that a much more plausible (though, for some reason, less palatable) explanation occurred to me - this was some nutjob cosplayer, some weirdo from a online forum or the Bioware site who had somehow track me down and then had broken into my home but was jolted by the lightning strike before he could do...whatever it was he had been planning on doing. It also occurred to me that, what or whomever he was, I was still cold and damp and outside in the middle of a lightning storm and needed to settle on a plan of action. Anders (or some Anders-like internet stalker) was still in my living room, and there was a decision to be made.**

**Before I could take a step in either direction, Anders (_or freaky stalking Anders cosplayer_, I chided myself) burst through the door, wild-eyed and panicked. He paused on the porch, taking in his surroundings before breaking into an awkward run into the front yard. I took the opportunity to flee quickly back into the house, watching him through the safety of my screen door.**

**Maybe-Anders slipped in the wet, slushy rain in the front yard and fell to his hands and knees. I found myself instinctively reaching for the door to go and help and then stopped myself. ****_We don't help psycho cosplayers who break into the house_****, I reminded myself sternly. Just then thunder boomed across the sky, and the man in my yard cried out and curled into the fetal position. I sighed at my own damnable sense of compassion and stupidity as i grabbed an umbrella and headed outside.**

**He was watching me as I descended the porch steps, and I was unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes when he cried out again at the sight of the umbrella popping open when I pressed the button on the handle. I approached him where he lay, shivering and soaked in the darkness.**

**"Come on, lets get you inside." I said, weary resignation in my voice, holding out a hand to help him up. He reluctantly accepted my help, struggling to his fee, and joined me under the umbrella, leaning against me for support. I immediately noticed that he smelled incredibly rank, and had to fight the almost overpowering urge to gag and get away from him. Instead I sped up our progress to the house, nearly shoving him away from me once we were inside. He stumbled to the floor, weak and wet and shivering.**

**As I shook off my umbrella and tried to think what to do next, the power blinked back on. The house lit up around us and I started blinking rapidly, trying to get my eyes adjusted to the sudden onslaught of light. Anders shrieked again and started rocking and whimpering on the floor. I watched him disdainfully, reminded once again of how much I would have preferred Fenris. He might have ripped my heart out on sight, but it would have saved me from having to deal with the smelly, sniveling mage on my floor.**

**Good God, the wretched stink of him. I opened the door of my coat closet and rummaged around on the floor, finally finding what I was looking for, a bag of clothes that had belonged to my ex-husband. I dug through the bag and found a t-shirt that featured the Atari logo and a pair of faded grey sweatpants. No underwear in the bag, but I didn't think Anders (****_or homicidal cosplaying burglar!_**** my subconscious shrieked at me in a panic) would mind.**

**"First you shower." I said wearily, holding out the clothes for him to take. "Then we figure out what the hell is going on."**


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

_I don't know if such a thing as Dragon Age 2 spoilers still exist, but there is some referencing a specific plot point in this chapter, so if for whatever reason you haven't played, don't read._

Anders (or serial killer cosplayer) looked askance at the narrow shower, then at me. I had started the shower, brought him to the bathroom, had done everything but shove him in. My patience was wearing thin at that point, and I started speaking to him like one would a child, or possibly a caveman who had been frozen during the ice age and recently thawed.

"Water hot. Wash your body. Soap there." I pointed.

"I'm not an idiot, you know." He said, finally. "I know how to bathe."

"Then for love of all that is good and holy, please do so." I replied curtly, shoving a towel at him and turning around to leave, then thought better of it and turned around to face him again, holding out my arms. "Robes, please."

"What?" he asked, clutching at the smelly, soaked mess of his clothing.

"Robes." I repeated, gesturing for him to hand them over. "They're soaking wet and they stink." he paused for a moment, then started unfastening them. I watched the process with almost clinical interest - so that's how those things stay on! - when he shrugged out of them and was standing before me in nothing but his smalls. He handed me the robe and I backed out of the room, blushing and pulling the door shut behind me. Magic does a body good, I thought to myself, heading for the laundry.

Once in front of the washing machine I was struck with uncertainty. How does one appropriately wash feather-shouldered mage robes? I settled on cold water, delicate cycle. Hand washing would probably have been better, but I don't hand wash my own clothes, so I'm certainly not going to start now. While in the laundry room I dug through the basket of clean and folded clothes I had lazily left there earlier and pulled out a fresh pair of pajamas, taking the soaked set I was wearing off and tossing them in the wash with Anders' robes, then quickly pulling on the clean pair. They were my favorites, comfy long-sleeved flannel PJ's, festooned with colorful cartoon owls asking "Whoooo's up late?".

Once the washer was going I headed into the kitchen and turned on the kettle for a cup of hot tea. I was certain Anders (_or insane comic con murderer!_) would be thirsty, but what would he drink? The only thing they ever seemed to drink in the game was ale. I had a few Stellas in the fridge, but decided the last thing I needed to do was liquor up my uninvited guest, regardless of whether he was a mentally challenged cosplaying thief/rapist/murderer or a character from a video game magically brought to life by a lightning strike. Neither option sounded very appealing or particularly sane.

I settled on tea for both of us, and was returning to the living room with two steaming mugs when Anders emerged from the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the doorway to the living room and I took the opportunity to look him over. He cleans up nicely. His hair, which always seemed so ridiculous in the game, was hanging loose and damp in waves around his shoulders. IRL Anders is pretty hot, I decided, then noticed him shivering.

"You're cold, I'm sorry. Sit, please." I gestured to the other end of the sofa, then reached under the coffee table and tossed him a blanket I kept stowed there. "I made tea." He accepted the cup gratefully, and we sat in silence as we sipped . I was watching him, and he was glancing around the room, looking bewildered. I let my hand drop down between the arm of the sofa and the end table, reassured by the wooden baseball bat I kept tucked away there. One wrong move by the man on the other end of the couch and I was going to swing for the fences, at either a knee or a head.

"How do you know my name?" He asked finally, his gaze settling on me. I sighed, the utter ridiculousness of the situation weighing heavily on me. I eyed him warily. The notion of this person somehow actually being Anders, magically zapped into life in my living room, was a charming one (_would have been more charming had it been Fenris_, I sullenly reminded myself), but also highly unlikely. But how could I adequately prove to him - and a very tired, very skeptical me - that he wasn't?

"Before we talk about that, do me a favor." I told him, leaning down and retrieving his staff from under the couch, where it had apparently rolled when he abandoned it for his wild run out of the house earlier. I reluctantly leaned across the couch and handed it to him, while the part of my mind that was fairly certain this was some psycho stranger come to murder me screeched in protest. _Way to arm your intruder with a long heavy stick, dummy_. To placate my rational side I grabbed the baseball bat and rested it in my lap.

"See that candle, on the coffee table?" I pointed to a huge, 3-wick candle that sat there. It smelled like apples and cinnamon. I didn't light it often because the scent made me crave pie. "Light it. With your '_magic_'". I threw up air quotes on the last word, because nothing conveys snide cynicism and a love of Austin Powers movies like air quotes.

"I do not need my staff for that." He said confidently, sitting it aside and leaning forward. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, centering himself, I supposed, while I watched him with a bemused air. This guy really thinks he's Anders. Cute. Scary, but cute. Then he reached out, holding his hand over the candle. I felt a snicker welling up but quashed it - don't piss off the cosplayer pretending hes about to do magic in your living room.

Then his hand started to glow. A light pink at first, then gradually deepening into a red, then darkening shades of magenta and maroon. I jumped to my feet, baseball bat rolling forgotten onto the floor, hot tea sloshing out of the cup in my hand and dripping down my arm. I vaguely felt the scalding from the hot liquid but all my senses were far more focused on the utterly implausible and frankly impossible scene taking place in front of me. When flame flickered down from his fingertips and lit the wicks of the candle, I dropped the teacup and backed frantically into a corner of the room. It was my turn to be wide-eyed and panicked.

"What in the hell." I whispered, gazing at Anders in awe.

"Why did you ask me to perform magic if it would alarm you?" he asked, frowning. "And how did you know my name?" I opened my mouth to explain, then promptly closed it again. How on earth could I explain?

"I think...I think I must be dreaming." I decided, desperately seizing upon that as an explanation, relieved. "Yes, absolutely. Dreaming."

"So I am in the fade." He said, looking relieved himself, glancing around the room. "Ah. I have never been in this part of the fade. It is...quite strange."

"What's the last thing you remember?" I asked him excitedly, figuring, if I'm dreaming, why not revel in the insanity. I sat back down on the couch and winced as sensation suddenly returned to my scalded arm. I had also managed to burn my foot when I dropped my mug. Anders noticed this and walked over to me, taking my arm. His hand began to glow again, this time a soothing blue, and he moved it up my arm, the pain slowly fading as he went.

"I had been in Hightown, with Hawke and a couple of the others." he recalled, letting go of my arm and leaning down to my foot, working his magic there. "We had dispatched a few groups of bandits and were heading to Lowtown, and then I woke up on your floor. I remember nothing of the interim." His healing magic was amazing. I felt no pain, and the burned spots had faded from an angry red to a pink.

"Thank you, that's incredible." I told him, marveling as the pink faded back to regular skin tone as I watched. He frowned at me as he returned to his seat.

"You need to tell me what you are, who you are, and how you know me." He said sternly, one hand grasping his staff.

"I am...a human. Like you. I mean, I'm not a mage, like you. Just human." I spoke carefully at first, but then threw caution to the wind, figuring, screw it, I'm dreaming. Why be rational? This is not a rational situation. "So what is Fenris like?"

"Are you a demon?" Anders asked, frowning again, ignoring my question.

"Yes, I'm a desire demon, clad in these sexy flannel owl pajamas." I replied sarcastically, briefly doing a decidedly unsexy, undulating dance on the sofa.

"You are very odd." He informed me, his brow furrowed.

"Thank you." I said, genuinely taking it as compliment.

"You still have not answered my question. Who are you, and how do you know me?" Anders asked, growing impatient. I sighed, somewhat bummed out that dream Anders was turning out to be just as much of a stick in the mud as game Anders.

"Ok, I've got an idea. We'll take turns asking and answering questions." I proposed, because, why the hell not. It was cliche, but screw it, it was my dream. "It's only fair. And that way we both get answers. I'll even let you go first."

"What is your name, and who are you?" Anders asked.

"No two part questions, that's cheating. I'll answer your first question: my name is Sabrina. My turn!" I thought for a moment before proceeding, then went ahead and asked what I really wanted to know. "What is Fenris like?"

"Brooding, irritable and maddening. How did you come to know of me and my companions?" Anders fired back, looking at me suspiciously. Damn. This was tricky. How does one explain a situation like the one I currently found myself in? One doesn't, I decided.

"I don't know, I just do. This is the Fade, after all, things don't have to make sense." I said lightly, hoping he wouldn't call my bluff. "My turn. I haven't seen any sign of Justice. What's he up to? What are his thoughts on this...dream?" Anders paused, looking thoughtful, then somewhat distressed.

"I am not...he is not here, it seems. I don't feel him." Anders answered, a look of concern crossing his face, looking expectantly around the room as though the spirit was going to pop around the corner from the kitchen and offer everyone cocktails. "This is very odd. I do not feel him at all. It is as though he has left me. However, this being the Fade, he can travel outside of me, I suppose."

"So you were able to separate yourself from Justice without the aid of some fancy, imaginary potion? Go figure." I remarked snidely.

"What?" Anders jumped a little in his seat, looking at me somewhat guiltily, I noticed with some satisfaction. "Why do you say that?"

"Eh, no reason," I answered, waving off the question. I wondered if there were rules for this odd scenario. Like if you time travel, there's the possibility of altering the future, of becoming your own grandmother or something odd like that. So what was to prevent me from disclosing to him that I was on to him with his "potion ingredients" and "distract the Mother Superior" crap he would eventually pull? Why shouldn't I call him on his bullshit? Maybe I could even talk him out of it. But then, would that change the game? I felt somewhat guilty for thinking it was perfectly acceptable for Anders to blow up the chantry and all the people in and around it as long as the game stayed entertaining. But, I rationalized, they're fictional people. So that's kind of ok? Ahh, Catholic guilt.

"Fade or no, how do you know all this? Your knowledge of me, my situation and my companions is too deep to be merely a coincidence, to be just some quirk of dreaming."

I sighed and realized suddenly how utterly exhausted I felt. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was creeping up on 5AM. I was done. How do you end a dream? I punched my leg a couple of times, then pinched my arm. _Wake up, dummy!_ Maybe I just needed to go to sleep in the dream, I decided. Then I could wake up in real life to a bright and sunny morning, my home free of video game characters I didn't even like that much anyway. It was flawed rationalization, but at that point I was desperate. But what to do with Anders? I couldn't just lie down and go to sleep with him sitting there. It would be rude, and my southern manners simply did not permit rudeness, even to fictional characters in dreams. I looked up at Anders and saw he was gazing at me expectantly.

"You need more tea! Let me just see to that and then we'll continue our conversation." I said, grabbing his mug and heading into the kitchen. I topped off the hot water from the kettle, dropped in the tea bag and then, somewhat guiltily, an Ambien from the bottle I kept over the sink. I'm roofy-ing Anders, I realized, having to hold back laughter. Once the pill had satisfactorily dissolved and the tea was properly steeped, I returned his mug to him, then sat down and watched him attentively. How long does it take an Ambien to work on a fictional character from an imaginary time and place in a dream state, I wondered? The answer turned out to be: not long at all. After just of few sips, he set the mug down on the coffee table and put his hand to his head.

"What was in that tea? Did you poison me?" He asked, panic crossing his face. "I feel so tired that I can barely stand. Demon!"

"It's not poison, and I'm not a demon!" I declared, feeling a little panic myself at the sight of him grasping around for his staff. "You're just tired from the events of the evening. Here, I'll take you to lie down, and when you wake up, you'll be in Kirkwall again and all will be well." I helped him towards my bedroom, offering up a prayer that what I said was true, and settled him underneath the blankets in my bed. "I'll sleep on the sofa. Nice to meet you, Anders. Tell Fenris I said hello." He was already drifting off as I switched off the light and left the room.

I practically ran to the sofa, lying down and covering myself as quickly as I could, squeezing my eyes shut like a child trying to fall asleep on Christmas eve so Santa would come. I could not get out and away from this weird dream fast enough. _Sleep, dammit, sleep_, I admonished myself. Eventually, I did.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, though I missed the dawning part because I was out like a light. When I was awake enough I cracked open one eye, looking blearily at the clock. 11AM, shit. I stood up and stretched, reflecting on my dream and how real it seemed, how real it still seemed.

I decided doughnuts and coffee were in order, so I needed to get dressed and take a trip to Krispy Kreme. As I passed by my computer I pulled up iTunes and hit shuffle before I headed back to find some clothes. I walked to my bedroom, then slowed as I approached it, a part of me fearing that it wasn't a dream, that I would enter my room and find Anders still snoring in my bed. I peeked apprehensively around the corner and heaved a massive sigh of relief at the empty bed.

I flipped on the light and danced my way to the closet, singing merrily along with the music. I dug out my favorite t-shirt, an awesome purple shirt featuring the likeness of the Macho Man Randy Savage, and offered up a memorial "Oh, YEEAAAAH" as I doffed my pajama top. Then a voice from the bathroom door behind me froze me in my tracks.

"I do enjoy the convenience of indoor plumbing. Good morning, Sabrina."


	3. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Anders." I replied, utterly crestfallen. His continued presence in my home meant that I was still dreaming. This was the only explanation that I could accept, because to even consider otherwise meant that I had probably gone sailing over the deep end into crazy land. "This is one hell of a vivid dream."

"Sabrina...I do not think this is the Fade, that either of us are dreaming. I know the Fade, and this is not it." Anders told me, sinking down onto the bed. "Somehow I was transported here, to your time and place. I do not know why, or how, but I am here."

"No." I said, shaking my head. "No, that's not possible. If this is not a dream, that means that you are really Anders, and really here, and that can only mean that I have gone insane."

"I am really Anders, and I am really here. Though I cannot vouch for your sanity, and have questioned your grip on it a few times since I've met you." He teased. I was not amused.

"I have to wrap my mind around this." I said desperately, cradling my head in my hands. "There's no way this is actually happening. So you're real. You're really here, you're not just some figment of my imagination. Or maybe, maybe you are just a very vivid dream brought on because I ate that hummus that had been in the fridge for so long and I wasn't sure if it had gone bad but I ate it anyway? Maybe you're a hummus dream."

"What? I am here, I am real. I do not know how to prove to you otherwise." Anders shrugged. That made me think: how could I prove to myself that he was real? I needed a second opinion, another person to verify that he was actually there, and not just a hallucination. That seemed like a good start.

"Come on, let's go outside and see if anyone is out and about." I decided, gesturing for him to follow me down the hall. "I want to know if someone else can see you, or if it's only me." He didn't move from his perch on the bed, and smirked slightly.

"If we are leaving the house, perhaps you should put on a shirt." He remarked dryly. "Not that I'm not enjoying the view, but..." I glared at him as I yanked the shirt over my head, and motioned again for him to follow me. We went outside and I looked around to see if any of my neighbors had ventured out, relieved to see my next-door neighbor Mary puttering around in her yard. I grabbed Anders hand and started pulling him along behind me.

"Mary." I called out as I approached her. She looked up from her flower bed and raised an eyebrow as we came nearer, taking in my bedraggled appearance and the man stumbling along in my wake.

"Hello Sabrina," she said mildly. Mary was in her early sixties, a widow and a retired teacher. She was one of my favorite people in the world, I loved her for her honesty and her sense of humor. If anyone would listen to what I had to say and not judge, or call for the men in the white coats, it was her.

"Mary, what day is today? Whats the date?" I asked, breathlessly, stopping a few steps behind her. Anders positioned himself behind me, peeking around my shoulder.

"Well, honey, its Saturday. January 11th, I think." She looked at Anders, then at me, and a somewhat lecherous smile crossed her face. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Same old. So...do you see this man?" I asked her, grabbing Anders and pulling him out in front of me. He waved, sheepishly.

"Well...yes." She answered, looking confused. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. So he was real and visible to someone other than me. At least I knew I wasn't imagining him.

"Can you hear him when he speaks? Speak, Anders, say something." I ordered, jostling his arm. He looked down at me, witheringly.

"I am not a dog, you know." He said, shaking my hand off his arm and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, I can hear him. Are you alright, Sabrina?" she asked me, concern on her face. "Do you need help?"

"Possibly, but if I do, its more of the psychiatric variety. Thanks, Mary. Have a great day." I grabbed Anders hand and led him back to my house, holding the front door open so he could go in ahead of me. I glanced over at Mary one last time and saw her giving me a thumbs up, mouthing "_Nice!_", in regards to Anders. I smiled and shook my head.

"So what do we do now?" Anders asked me, as I entered the house. I had no idea. I plopped down onto the sofa and rubbed my temples, my mind racing, attempting to come up with any plausible explanation for his presence, when I knew there was none. Might as well embrace the crazy.  
"Now we get doughnuts." I answered. "Let me finish changing."

Anders' wide eyed astonishment at what seemed like every single thing. we encountered was actually rather charming. He marveled at the car, demanding to know how it worked, and I struggled through a very rudimentary and highly inaccurate explanation of a combustion engine. Traffic and traffic lights fascinated him, digital billboards mesmerized him.

As I waited in line to order our breakfast, Anders wandered over and pressed himself excitedly against the glass, watching the freshly made doughnuts pass by on the conveyor belt. I studied him as I waited, noticing that the jeans and sweatshirt I had dug out of the bag of my ex's clothes were hanging loosely on his slender frame. Should I buy him clothes? I wondered. Would he wear boxers or briefs? How long is he going to be here? What on earth am I going to do with him?

I'm going to show him around town, I decided. Play tourist for the weekend, show him the sights, distract both of us from the reality of the situation, although using the word "reality" for this situation was scary. We took our coffee and doughnuts to go and drove to a park on the bay, sitting on a bench and eating in companionable silence as we watched the water.

"What am I to do?" Anders spoke up suddenly, his voice sad. "It is pleasant enough here, and you have been nice. But this is not my time or my place, I do not belong here. How do I get home?" I had no answer for him. How was he supposed to get home? Hang out near the Playstation the next time there was a lightning storm, in the hopes of zapping him back? This is some _Back to the Future_ shit I'm dealing with here.

"I honestly have no idea how you got here, or how to get you back. In the meantime, would you like to go to the beach? Lets distract ourselves with inane activities!"

So we went to the beach. Our first stop was the observation wheel, where Anders peered eagerly through the window at the sights below us. Way below us. I sat in a seat, checking email on my phone. Views like that are lost on people afraid of heights.

"What's that?" He asked, excitedly. I leaned over to see where he was pointing.

"That's a miniature golf course." I answered. He looked at me blankly. "Well, there's a ball, and a hole. The point is to use a golf club to hit the ball into the hole in as few strokes as possible." Golf sounds kind of stupid when you have to explain it.

"Can we go?" He asked eagerly. I sighed; it was like spending an afternoon with my nephew.

"Fine." I agreed. We headed there once our ride was over and, after a few holes, Anders not only caught on to the game, he started beating me, roundly. On the 18th hole he stood beside me as I tallied the score, shifting his weight eagerly from foot to foot. "You won."

"Yes!" He exclaimed, then looked at me smugly. "That was the first time I have ever heard of that game, much less played it, and I bested you." His child-like wonder had ceased to be charming and was now wearing on me. I looked across the street at a restaurant and decided it was time for a cocktail.

We ate and enjoyed a couple of beers, talking briefly about our lives. He asked about my ex-husband (had left me for another woman three years ago; I was sad at first but had since realized it was for the best), I asked him about his love life (random encounters with women, then Hawke, whom he wasn't inclined to talk about in any detail, much to my chagrin). He talked about the places he had visited and lived, and the beauty of Kirkwall and Ferelden and the other places he had wandered. He wasn't impressed by our beaches, thought the entire town was flat and bland and that there was nothing special about sand and water. I explained that the rest of the world wasn't like this one area, and described some of the places where I had traveled. It was a nice conversation and while we waited for the check I was reflecting that I felt closer to him, now. Like we had bonded.

"Your food here is terrible." He informed me, as I signed the credit card slip for our dinner bill. "It is all over-seasoned or over-sweetened, and there is so much of it."

"Well, don't eat it then." I told him, feeling somewhat irritated by his complaints. We left the restaurant and started heading back to the car.

"And the people here are all fat." He continued as we walked, his voice too loud, drawing looks from people around us. "Probably because of all the food." I didn't reply, my irritation increasing with every remark he made. "I don't see how you can live here. Flat, boring land, bad food, fat people, it's-"

"You know what, I'm tired and ready to go home" I interrupted him quickly, not in the mood for any more of his commentary on my hometown. Anyway, I really was tired - the previous night had been a long one. We got in the car and started for home, Anders thankfully silent for once. We stopped off at Wal-Mart on the way, a blessedly short trip, in and out, and he now had a few toiletries, clothes and pajamas to call his own.

"That place is terrible." He remarked. I nodded in agreement. "I still do not understand why I couldn't have the can of cologne."

"Because, Anders, it was freaking Axe body spray." I answered, exasperated. We had gone over this in the store. "I mean, if you want to smell like a douche, then fine, I'll go back and get it for you. But otherwise, just no. And here's a little tip: any cologne that comes in a can is generally something to avoid." He looked surly.

"Why do you get to be in charge?" He mumbled sullenly, crossing his arms and scowling out the window.

"I get to be in charge because this is my freaking world. You somehow ended up in my house, in my universe. Neither of us asked for that, I get that, but I think that I should call the shots since I'm, you know, a documented citizen, with a job and money and whatnot." I rolled my eyes. "God, this is like being married again."

"I didn't sign up for this." He said, through a clenched jaw.

"Yeah, well, you don't always get to sign up for things, sometimes shit just happens." I retorted. The rest of the drive was silent and awkward. Once home we brought our purchases inside the house, and I sent Anders to go shower.

"Again?" he asked, incredulous.

"Daily." I answered, pointing him towards the bathroom. I took a shower as well, feeling somewhat less rage-y when I was clean and clad in comfy pajamas. I headed out into the living room and settled myself on the couch, waiting for Anders. He joined me shortly, clad in some LSU pajama pants and an angry birds t-shirt. I snickered.

"So, what shall we do now?" He asked, looking at me expectantly.

"Now, we are going to bed. It's late and I know we could both use some sleep." Anders shrugged and started heading down the hall, towards my bedroom. "Um, Anders? Why don't you take the couch tonight? My back can only take so much couch sleeping, and I've reached my limit." He frowned but came back into the living room and sat down. I bustled around the house, finding him a pillow and a blanket.

"Good night, Anders." I told him, turning around and heading for my room.

"I'm thirsty." He said plaintively. I sighed.

"Get some water from the faucet in the kitchen," I instructed him. "The cups are in the cupboard right above it."

"I don't want water, I want tea."

_This isn't like being married, this is like having a child_, I thought to myself. I considered telling him to make his own, but then reconsidered when I realized it would involve him using the stove, and I wasn't certain either of us were ready for that. I filled up the kettle and sat it on the stove, realizing that having Anders here was kind of like having a toddler in the house. I had to make certain he didn't leave the house and wander into the street, I had to keep him from using the stove, I had to explain everything to him, repeatedly. But it's not his fault, I reminded myself. Once his tea was steeped, I brought it to him, sat it down on the coffee table, and headed towards my room.

"This is plain tea, I wanted honey and lemon." He complained, after taking a sip. I stopped in the hallway and took a moment to breathe. I was an introvert, and used to living alone. My need to have some alone time, a little space, was rapidly becoming what felt like a compulsion. I felt like if I didn't get to my room, and away from Anders, I was going to scream. It was nothing personal - I would have felt that way no matter whom I had spent the _ENTIRE BLOODY DAY_ with, but I was absolutely done.

"_Just. drink. the tea._" I told him. "Just drink the damned tea, the way it is. Good night, Anders." Without waiting for a reply, I almost ran the rest of the way down the hallway to my room, closing the door behind me and leaping into my bed, settling in happily, snug under the covers. Within minutes I was sound asleep.

"Sabrina?" I was hastily yanked out of my sleep by Anders' whispering, right by my ear. "Sabrina, wake up."

"Oh my _GOD_, Anders, WHAT?" I asked blearily, opening my eyes and trying to make him out in the darkness of my room.

"I was...afraid. I had a bad dream, but it wasn't like dreaming the way I do where I am from." My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and I could see him hovering right beside the bed. "I...cannot go back to sleep."

"What am I supposed to do, then?" I asked grumpily.

"Can I...may I lie down with you?" He asked.

"No way." I replied, quickly. Nope. Not gonna happen. "Just go lie down on the couch."

"I can't." He said, and I realized he was crying. Seriously? This is a man who regularly battles demons and ogres, and now he's standing at my bedside like a scared child, because of a dream. "Please, Sabrina, please don't make me." I sighed. I was doing a lot of that lately.

"Fine. But if you so much as touch me - even by accident - it will be the last thing you do." I warned him. He moved down to the foot of the bed and crawled up to the empty side of the queen-sized bed, climbing under the covers and settling in. I rolled over onto my side, trying to go back to sleep and hoping that I wouldn't regret this decision. I had been doing a lot of that lately, too.

Anders kept moving, adjusting the blankets, rolling from one side to the other, bending and straightening his legs. Every time he shifted the bed shook, and I pinched my eyes shut, trying to be patient. Finally he was still, and I was drifting off to sleep when he started fidgeting again.

"Anders, if you don't settle in and stop moving around, I'm going to murder you." I told him calmly. He was instantly still for a moment, then the bed moved one more time as he rolled on to his side.

"I'm done now." He assured me quickly. A few minutes of blissful silence passed, and I was once again drifting off when I felt Anders arm snaking slowly over my waist. I was decidedly not in a cuddling mood.

"You want to lose that arm, keep it up." I informed him, sleepy but deadly serious. He immediately pulled his arm back. "Please, Anders, just go to sleep." He mumbled something under his breath. "What?" He paused for a moment before repeating himself, an ugly snarl in his voice.

"I _said_, I can understand why your husband left you."


	4. Chapter 4: The Wanderer

_Kind of a short, fluffy chapter...my personal life has gone haywire, and I'm packing for vacation. I'll try to do better when I get home after the weekend. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing - it really means a lot!_

* * *

"You can understand why my husband left me." I repeated, thoughtfully. "What is that supposed to mean? Are you trying to wound me, or something? Trying to tell me I'm hard to live with, hard to deal with? Because if you were trying to hurt me, you didn't. All you did is piss me off."

"I'm sorry, Sabrina, I didn't mean to-"

"What utter bullshit, Anders."

"Sabrina, I-"

"No, Anders. Just...no. You just stay there." I told him, as he started to get out of bed. "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight, and then tomorrow morning, we are going to figure out how to get you home and the hell away from me." I stomped angrily down the hall, settling on the couch. I tossed and turned for a while and finally fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

The next morning was another beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, the temperature mild. I woke up just after 8AM and made coffee, fixing myself a cup and sitting on the couch, enjoying the silence. I deliberately avoided thinking about the Anders situation, because there didn't seem to be any solution to that particular problem. I was finishing my first cup of coffee and considering a second when Anders walked into the room, holding his hands out in front of him defensively.

"Sabrina, I did not mean to say what I said." He said, joining me on the couch. "I just...this is all so strange. Justice has left me, and after living with him for all these years it is strange for my mind and my body to be mine and mine alone. I have not performed any magic, except for lighting your candle, since I arrived here. I feel...useless, and adrift, and with no way of knowing when or if I can go home..." He trailed off there, looking down at his hands, then up at me, his face so _sad_, a tear trickling down his cheek. My heart broke for him.

"I know that this is weird, and hard, and very confusing. It's not exactly an everyday occurrence for me, either. And I'm used to living alone, and going from that to having someone around every day, all day, is different for me, and hard to get used to." I sighed. "We both could have been more understanding. I'm sorry I threatened to murder you if you touched me."

"Don't forget that you threatened to rip my arm from my body." He said, a twinkle in his eye. "That was not very kind, either."

"Yeah, well, you deserved it." I told him, a smile crossing my face.

"So...what now?" He asked, serious again. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well, I'm going to church." I answered him. "You can stay here, and then when I get back we'll put our heads together and see what we can come up with."

"You're going to leave me here? Alone?" He asked, panic in his voice. It really was like having a child. What could he do while I was gone, that would keep him busy and distracted? Then he solved the problem for me: gadgets.

"If you are going to leave me here, will you show me about all the...devices you have here? How they work, what they do?" He asked, gesturing at the TV and the computer.

"Yes, I can do that. Let's start in the back of the house and work our way up," I decided. "You show me what you want to know, I'll explain what it is, and if I can, how it works." Anders dashed back to my bedroom, eager to begin. He wanted to start with the ceiling fan, and was delighted by the fact that it had a remote.

"It's like you don't have to actually get up and do anything!" he said gleefully, lying on the bed and adjusting the dimmer setting on the light so quickly that it was almost a strobe effect. Next I showed him the television and how it worked, and he literally clapped his hands with delight when he realized that it, too, had a remote. The treadmill was much harder to explain.

"I use it for exercise, for running." I demonstrated briefly. Anders frowned.

"Why do you need a contraption inside for running in place? Why cant you go outside and run there?"

"Because there's no Netflix outside." I answered honestly. "Inside I don't have to worry about cold or heat or rain or loose dogs or bad people. Plus I can watch as much 30 Rock as I want. You don't get that running on the street."

"And this?" he asked, studying my iPod curiously. I explained to the best of my ability, then put the headphones on him and turned it on. Some hard rock screeched through the headphones, and he grabbed them and flung them away.

"That is music?!" he asked, incredulous.

"You have no idea, my friend." I replied. I showed him my Kindle next, then my Nintendo DS. We moved into the living room, and showed him the TV.

"But you have one of those in your bedroom, as well." He pointed out, looking confused. "Why do you need one in here?"

"Well, because...sometimes I want to watch TV out here, and sometimes I want to watch in when I'm in bed. And if I have someone over to watch a movie, we can watch it out here, instead of having to go sit in my bedroom, which could be weird. But hey look, this one has a remote too!" We moved on to the DVR, then I hesitantly showed him the Playstation. What was I supposed to say? '_This is where you came from_'? No.

"It plays games? Can you show me?" He asked, looking curious and excited. I turned on the PS3 and sat down on the couch. Once the menu came up I was horrified to see the Dragon Age logo in the background, since the game was still loaded. I frantically turned the TV off, hoping Anders hadn't seen anything he would recognize. I wasn't ready to try and explain, not yet.

"This is my desktop computer." I showed him. "And this is my tablet. These are used to...store information, and...um...type stuff, and do calculations, and...well, they're mostly for the internet. Well, I use them mostly for the internet."

"What is that small tablet you carry with you everywhere?" He asked, pointing to my phone.

"This is my smart phone. It's a telephone, that I can use to call and speak to someone, but I can also send text messages, and emails, and access the internet and such." I explained. He looked at it keenly.

"Can I have one of those?" He asked, grinning.

"You know, Anders, our relationship hasn't progressed to a point where I'm ready to add you to my cell phone plan. That's a big step." I glanced at the clock and realized I needed to be going soon if I was going to make it to church. "Sit down with me, I'm going to show you a website that I think you'll love."

I left for church, secure in the knowledge that Anders was thoroughly engrossed in LOLcats.

* * *

I got home an hour and a half later, feeling much more at peace. Church had that affect on me, and having a little time to myself made me feel even better. I unlocked the front door, expecting to see Anders still perched on the sofa, enthralled, but he wasn't I frowned and walked into the kitchen, hoping he hadn't killed himself with the microwave or in some similarly bizarre way. Not in the kitchen or the dining room. I walked to the back of the house, still no Anders. _Shit_. Where could he have gone? I was starting to panic.

"Anders?!" I shouted from the hallway. I went back outside into the front yard, and saw no sign of him. Went back through the house, breaking into a run, and exploded through the back door, shouting his name again. "ANDERS!"

"We're over here, Sabrina." Mary called, from her back porch next door. "Your friend is with me." I was relieved and alarmed all at once as I walked over and hopped over the small fence that separated our yards. Anders was sitting at her patio table, a cup of coffee in front of him, my tablet in his hands, and greeted me with a bright smile.

"Sabrina! Your friend Mary has just been showing me more about the internet. Do you know how many cat videos there are on the internet?"

"Yes, there are lots of cat videos on the internet." I agreed, joining them at the table and looking warily at my dear neighbor, who was looking somewhat smugly at me.

"Your friend is delightful, Sabrina. I can't help but wonder what rock you've been hiding him under." She told me, smirking. "And I mean that literally, my dear, because I didn't think anyone in the world knew less about the internet than me, but you've managed to find him!"

"I know, right? Crazy!" I said, through clenched teeth. "How did you end up having coffee with Mary, Anders?"

"Oh, don't bother him, dear, I just showed him Cat Shaming, he'll be busy for days. I was sitting out here enjoying my coffee, and your friend wandered outside, shaking your tablet like an etch-a-sketch and asking if I knew how to find the thing with all the cats." Mary informed me, raising an eyebrow. "I asked him if he wanted coffee and next thing I know we're having a charming conversation." I sucked in my breath at that; Anders didn't need to be engaging people in conversation, at least not until we had time to formulate a somewhat convincing explanation for his presence here.

"Well, gosh, Mary, thanks for taking such good care of my guest." I said, smiling in what had to be a very unconvincing manner.

"Anders, will you excuse us girls?" Mary asked him sweetly. "I'm going to borrow Sabrina to help me refresh our coffee." Anders waved us away, not glancing up from the screen, and Mary took my arm and led me inside.

"Look, I-"

"Girl, what are you doing over there?" Mary asked me, laughing. "Where did you find this man?"

"Under a rock?" I suggested sheepishly. She laughed again.

"Fine, don't tell me. But if you're going to be leaving him alone, you might want to find a sitter, or lock him in the house. I don't know what his story is, but he doesn't have the common sense God gave dirt." I sighed. She was right. What if he left the house and got mugged, or worse? What if he was picked up by a policeman?

"Thanks for keeping him safe, Mary." I told her, giving her a hug. She hugged me back.

"It's about time you found someone." she told me, warmly. "You deserve to be happy."

"Oh, no, it's not like that." I told her, somewhat horrified. Anders? Blerg. "He's just an...old friend. From...out of the country."

"So you're not, as the kids say, hitting that?" she asked merrily. Ack!

"No, Mary, I am not, as the kids say, '_hitting that_'. And gross! You better watch your language, young lady." I chided her, starting to laugh. "Why, are you interested? I could talk to him, if you are." It was her turn to be horrified.

"Sabrina! I wouldn't know what to do with that young man if he came with an instruction booklet. You, however, are still young. I think _you_ should be hitting that."

"I'll hit him with a baseball bat." I told her, and we both started laughing.

"I will tell you, Mary, that Sabrina is constantly threatening to kill me or hit me with things." Anders said from the doorway, his voice amused. "Did you know your friend had such violent tendencies?"


	5. Chapter 5

"My charming neighbor, violent?" Mary responded, still laughing. "I just don't believe it."

"You should ask her what she threatened to do to me in bed last night." Anders told her, looking at my horrified expression and snickering.

"You should tell her you got in bed with me because you were crying about a bad dream." I retorted, then laughed myself. "I guess I can definitely say my life has not been boring since you came into it, Anders."

"Nothing is boring when I'm around." Anders declared smugly. "Now show me some more cat videos."

* * *

We spent some more time on Mary's porch, drinking coffee and laughing, before returning home. Anders had burnt through the battery on my tablet, so I put in on the charger and then fixed lunch for us, a vegan bean salad that I hoped he would enjoy.

"The seasonings are so strong." He remarked, then chewed thoughtfully. "Its not terrible."

"What a glowing recommendation of my cooking." I said, dryly. "You are such a flatterer."

"What can I say, I know my way around the ladies." He told me, through a mouthful of food.

"Clearly."

"So what are we going to do today?" He asked brightly. "If I'm stuck here, I might as well enjoy myself."

"Well, I have some work to do around the house. Cleaning, and laundry. And the bathroom ceiling needs some patching, I was going to work on that." I told him, amused at his crestfallen expression.

"That all sounds...really boring." He told me, dismayed.

"Yeah, well, its not all fun and games." I informed him. "You can help me, it will get done faster."

"Oh, no, I'm good." He replied, shaking his head. "I'll look at more cats."

"No way, buddy. You're helping, like it or not." I told him. "You stay here, you chip in." He sighed, resigned to his awful fate.

After lunch I taught Anders how to use the vacuum, and showed him how I wanted things dusted, then headed to the bathroom to work on the ceiling. I didn't mind projects like this; after my husband had first left I found them laborious and tedious, but had since discovered the pleasure of a job well done. I hummed a tuneless song to myself as I worked, sanding and then patching the old plaster. I climbed down from the ladder to get something, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and laughed out loud at the sight of myself covered in plaster dust. I walked through the living room to get to the garage, and Anders also laughed at my appearance.

"I think you might have a problem with dandruff." He told me, laughing again when I patted the top of my head and plaster dust puffed out from it.

"Do you have magic for that?" I asked him, smiling.

"I believe your problem is beyond intervention, magical or otherwise." He assessed. I laughed and walked into the garage, digging the tool I needed out of the workbench and heading back into the living room. I took a moment to pause and watch Anders as he worked. He was a good looking man, I decided, noticing how his calves stood out as he stretched up to reach the high items on the wall with the duster.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, noticing me standing there. Oops, busted.

"Nothing gets me hotter than a man doing chores around the house." I teased. "Dust those knick-knacks, baby, oh yeah."

"If you like that, wait until I run the vacuum. It looks like it will involve a lot of bending over, if you would like to wait and enjoy the view." He replied suggestively, theatrically bending over the bookshelf. I laughed and shook my head.

"Just finish your chores, then well go out and I'll buy you a beer." I told him, heading for the bathroom to finish my work on the ceiling.

"That's good, because I was just thinking to myself that you never take me anywhere." He called to me, his voice teasing. I smiled. I was actually enjoying his company, which was strange for me. I didn't like him, in the game - almost loathed him, in fact - but I found myself surprised at the fact that _I liked Anders_. Not _like_ like, I added to myself hastily, but I appreciated his sense of humor.

He had taken well to modern life, handling technology like a pro shortly after being introduced to it. He had stopped asking what everything was and how it worked, which was either because he didn't care anymore or because he was tired of my inaccurate explanations. Everything about this situation is insane, I reminded myself. Fictional video game character, alive and living in the house? This does not happen to sane people. I pushed that thought aside quickly - better not to dwell on facts or realities when our problem involved so little of both. Insane or not, he was here, vacuuming the living room, so I thought it better to avoid thinking about why and how he came to be there, and instead worry about what to do with him in the meantime.

* * *

Once our household duties were done, we changed clothes and headed for one of my favorite local pizza places that had an amazing beer selection. We were having a fun evening, eating and drinking and talking.

"Ok, ok, ok, this is what we're going to do." I told Anders, shaking his arm to make certain I had his attention. "While I'm at work this week, you're going to watch Star Wars, over and over again, and then we can go to Star Wars trivia night together. That would be _so_ awesome."

"I don't know what any of that means. None of it." Anders laughed, his cheeks slightly pink from the beer, then burped, then laughed again. I was feeling the beer myself.

"Oh my gosh, man, Star Wars. There's so much you need to know, to see and stuff. Star Wars and Star Trek and...books! So many good books. The Hitchiker's Guide, and Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and...on TV there's Doctor Who! And Firefly!" I gushed, excited at the idea of introducing him to my favorite things.

"I think that man over there is interested in you." Anders said quietly, leaning towards me and gesturing behind us with his head. I looked in the direction he had indicated and saw a guy sitting at the bar, smiling at me. When we made eye contact he lifted his glass towards me.

"Not my type, but thanks for playing wingman." I told Anders, ignoring the man at the bar.

"Exactly what is your type? You've managed to resist my charms, so far." he teased.

"Well, there have been moments that you were hard to resist. like when you were sniveling on the floor in the living room, or crying and asking if you could lie down with-"

"Who could have imagined that crying and sniveling were not the way to your heart?" He interrupted, rolling his eyes.

"I don't think it was my heart you would be trying to get into. More like my pants. Hey-o!" I laughed at my own bad joke. "Oh come on, that was funny. High five!" I held up my hand, and Anders merely looked at me curiously. Then suddenly I was receiving a high five, but not from Anders.

"Come on, handsome stranger, don't leave my girl hanging!" My friend Aimee exclaimed exuberantly. "Sabrina, I guess this is why you haven't answered your phone all weekend?"

"Hey Aimee. Oh, and hey, the gangs all here. Chris and Tasha, Stephen! What are you guys up to?" I smiled, wanly.

"Pizza and beer, same as you." Aimee answered, pulling up a chair next to Anders and dazzling him with a bright smile. This was a bad development. How on earth would I explain Anders? '_Oh hey guys, this is a character from a video game, brought to life magically in my living room and now we're just chilling_'? No.

"So introduce us to your new friend here, Sabrina! I cant wait to meet the man who was interesting enough for you to turn off your phone for two days. Whats your name? What do you do?" Shit. I looked at Anders and he was looking at me, panic on his face that I knew must have been mirrored on my own.

"Well, this is...my...friend, Anders. He is...um...visiting, from...London." I said, haltingly, attempting to think quickly despite the three beers. "He is...a...healer. Um, a holistic type of...healer, doctor, type of thing. You know, herbs, and...things. Holistic things."

"Well that is fascinating!" Aimee exclaimed, grinning at me. "And what have the two of you been up to over the weekend?"

"Nothing like that!" I said, horrified by pretty much the entire conversation. "He's in town for a while, and we've just been hanging out."

"So a holistic doctor, how interesting. Are you moving to the States, or just visiting?" Aimee asked. Anders looked at me again. I had nothing.

"I am...visiting...I hope to go...home. Eventually. I don't know when." He stammered, watching me as he stumbled over the words. I nodded slightly and offered him a hopefully imperceptible shrug - what else could we do but fumble through things like this? We just needed to make certain we kept our stories straight.

"An open-ended visit! The holistic healing business must be good if you can take a vacation like that." Aimee remarked, winking at me. I rolled my eyes. "So tell me more about what you do!"

"Well, I...um...I help...people...with...things, when they're..." Anders looked over at me, helplessly.

"Aimee, you are so pushy. Let the man breathe a little, he just got into town and is still jet lagged. He had a long trip." I interrupted. Anders sagged in his chair, visibly relieved, although his mouth quirked in a slight smile when I mentioned his long trip. Aimee laughed.

"Fine, fine. But I will expect answers from one of you, at some point." She told us, slapping Anders arm fondly with a menu. He looked at me, bewildered, and I decided it was probably time to call it a night - we had both had enough at this point, both of beer and of company.

"I need the waiter and the check." I remarked, looking around for our server. "We have to get home. Anders is tired and I have to work tomorrow."

"Oh, boo. I hope you're not going to be so busy the entire time your friend is in town." Aimee pouted. "I had no idea what you were doing, you wouldn't answer your phone."

"I figured you were playing PS3." Our friend Stephen interjected, smiling at me - he was a fellow Dragon Age fan. "We know how Sabrina loves her games. Have you finished Dragon Age 2 again? I don't know why you keep playing over and over again, you always make the same choices. I bet you sided with the mages again, didn't you?" I saw Anders sit up abruptly and look at Stephen, and then at me, frowning. _Shit_.

"Check, please!" I called loudly.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

* * *

The ride home was awkward and silent. I would glance over at Anders from time to time as I drove, trying to gauge his state of mind, but couldn't glean anything from his closed off body language. My mind raced - what was I supposed to say? I supposed that I had to give him answers at some point, although I had honestly hoped that he would be somehow magically transported home before we had to discuss it.

"Did you want to-"

"No." Anders interrupted me, his voice flat. "I want to lie down."

"That's fine, I'm tired, too. Should we-"

"No." He interrupted again. "I don't want to talk about anything right now."

"I can respect that. But-"

"No, Sabrina!" He shouted suddenly. I winced, taken aback at his...anger? Confusion? Whatever it was, it was clearly eating away at him. I left him alone, not bothering to attempt conversation, although after a moment's consideration, I lifted my arm and patted his shoulder. He shifted in his seat to avoid my touch, and I couldn't help but to feel somewhat wounded.

"I wasn't the cause of this, you know." I said finally, as I pulled into the driveway and shut off the car. "I'm sorry, I know you have to be confused and angry, and you have every right to feel the bajillion emotions you must be experiencing about all this, but it wasn't my fault."

"I have _nothing_ here. No one." He replied after a moment, in that same flat, emotionless voice that was somehow worse than the shouting. "There's no purpose for me here, nothing for me to do." He was quiet for a moment again, then his chest hitched and a tear made its way down his stubbled cheek. I was quiet, giving him a chance to work it out. He was right, though.

"Anders, I..." I began, after a few minutes, but couldn't think of anything to add. "What can I do to make you feel better?" He looked up at me, tears streaking his handsome face, and my heart broke for him.

"There is one thing you could do for me..." he said, his voice trembling. I put my arm around him and pulled him close.

"Anything." I told him, hugging him and rubbing his arm.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" He asked. My arm froze on his.

"Wait. What do you mean, 'sleep with me'?" I asked.

"What do you think I mean?" He asked, and I could hear a trace of a smile in his voice. I shoved him away, and started laughing despite myself.

"You are such a perv." I told him, punching him on the arm. "Get your ass inside."

"Do you mean get my ass inside and into your bed?" He asked, grinning.

"I mean get your ass inside before I change my mind and make you sleep out here." I informed him. He followed me inside the house, chuckling.

* * *

We began what had become our nightly routine, of sorts. Anders showered in the front bathroom, I showered in the back. We met up on the living room sofa for tea, talk and television. Anders was already quite comfortable with the TV and cable, and I sat back on the couch and sipped my tea, watching him surf through the channels. He settled on the cartoon network, a choice I heartily and gratefully agreed with.

"So, tomorrow I have to go to work." I announced. He looked at me and frowned. "That means you're going to have to stay here, by yourself, while I'm there."

"Where are you going? And how long will you be gone?" He asked. The concern on his face was almost cute.

"I'm going to work, to my job. And I leave around 8, and get home around 5:30." I explained.

"What do you do? What is your job?"

"It's pretty boring stuff, accounting. Numbers and math." I told him, making a face. Even though I made fun of it regularly, I actually loved my job and found it fascinating.

"That's a long time." He told me worriedly. "What am I to do?"

"Well, you can mess around online. More cat videos and such. You can watch TV. I can show you how to use the playstation. I'll put out a few books for you to read. You can keep busy, I think, but the most important thing is, do not leave." I instructed.

"Not even to visit with Mary? Her coffee is much better than yours." He remarked.

"You can visit with Mary, but don't overstay your welcome." I warned him. "Don't plan to stay with her all day, or ask her to make you lunch or anything."

"But what am I to eat?" He almost whined.

"I'll make you a lunch tomorrow, but tomorrow night I'm going to show you how to fend for yourself." I told him. "And there are snacks you can grab if you get hungry in between. But again, I just can't say this enough: do not leave the house." He nodded. I hoped he meant it.

"Don't leave the house. Got it. I'll just look at things on the computer all day." He told me. I felt somewhat reassured. We sat in silence for a few minutes, silence that seemed companionable at first but started to feel somewhat strained.

"I guess we should talk about the elephant in the room." I finally said, full of dread. I knew we had to talk about his origins (ha!) and how I knew of him sooner or later. Might as well be now.

"Sabrina...I really don't want to talk about it right now."

"Really?" I asked, trying not to sound too relieved.

"Really. I'm tired and I'm not in the mood for anymore surprises at the moment." He answered. I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Good night, Anders." I told him warmly, patting his leg as I stood up to go to my room. He stood up and started following me. "Um, what are you doing?"

"You said that you would do anything to make me feel better." Anders reminded me. I frowned.

"It's not too late for me to send you outside to sleep." I reminded him.

"Sabrina, please. I won't try anything, I promise, I just...really don't want to be alone right now."

"Fine, you can stay." I told him begrudgingly, as I climbed into bed. "But any funny business and you're out of here." Anders settled in beside me, and began what was apparently his nightly business of getting comfortable, a process that seemed to involve lots of tossing and turning. He finally settled down and I was almost asleep when I felt his arm sliding around my waist again. I opened my mouth to protest, and then closed it again. If spooning made him feel better, I was willing to let it go. Well, almost willing to let it go.

"This is fine, but if you touch me inappropriately..." I began.

"I know, you'll kill me or dismember me or do something equally painful and violent." Anders finished for me, his breath tickling my neck. I shifted slightly away from him, feeling uncomfortable but trying to suppress it for his sake. "Good night, Sabrina. Thanks for everything." He leaned over and kissed my cheek, then laid back down and within minutes was sleeping soundly.

I wish I could say the same for myself.

* * *

I woke up the next morning on my back, Anders' arm still around me, his head on my stomach. It was rather odd and uncomfortable for me. I had never really been one for platonic cuddling, so this seemed completely weird and somewhat pointless, in a way. I slid out from underneath him, hopping out of bed and heading into the kitchen for some coffee.

Anders slept as I went through my morning routine of breakfast and coffee. I checked my phone while I ate, giggling when I read a text Stephen had sent that said, "Dude, is it just me, or is it totally crazy that your friend Anders from England look just like Anders from DA?". I replied "does he? I didn't notice!". Plausible deniability.

I pulled out the crock pot - a working girl's best friend! - and was chopping vegetables on the counter when I heard Anders come into the kitchen.

"What are you making?" He asked, his frown wrinkling his nose.

"This is for dinner." I told him as I worked. "A stew. It will cook all day and be ready to eat when I get home tonight."

"What's for breakfast?" He asked, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I made extra oatmeal today. But soon you're going to be on your own for breakfast, too. I'm not your mama." I told him, gesturing towards the stove. He took his oatmeal and coffee into the living room and turned on the TV. I finished up my stew and set the crock pot, then went about my business of preparing for work.

"What are you wearing?" Anders asked, when I emerged from my room later. I looked down at what I had on, a conservative skirt suit in a boring brown color.

"Work clothes." I answered, shrugging. "I hate it, too, but it's what I have to wear."

"What have you done to your hair? And your face?" He asked, looking at me somewhat incredulously. I grabbed a lock of my hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"I straightened my hair." I explained. "And I have on a little make-up. I don't do either, on the weekends. I think I look nice, though. Boring, but nice."

"You look...different." Anders answered, staring at me oddly. I shrugged, grabbing my laptop and purse.

"I'm leaving. Remember, don't-"

"I know, I know, don't leave the house." He finished for me.

"And clean up after yourself, please." I told him, pointedly staring at his breakfast dishes littering the coffee table. He waved me off, without even turning around. _Just like being married_, I told myself with a sigh.

* * *

My Monday turned out to be a typical one, busy and crazy, full of fires to be put out, emails demanding an immediate response, and boring staff meetings to attend. I was sitting in one such meeting, doodling mindlessly on a legal pad and halfheartedly listen to a co-worker drone on and on, when my cell phone started vibrating. I looked at the screen and saw the call was from my home phone. Anders. I clicked the 'ignore' button and resumed my doodling, making a mental note to call him back as soon as the meeting was over. The phone vibrated again, then three more times after that. People sitting around me were starting to notice. My boss frowned at me and leaned over.

"Is that an emergency?" He asked me in a hushed whisper, gesturing towards my phone.

"It might be." I conceded. "But it can wait."

"Go out and take it, you're disrupting the meeting." He told me. I sighed and tried to make my way for the exit as unobtrusively as I could. My co-workers watched me go with something akin to envy on their faces. Once I had closed the door behind me, I called my home number as fast as I could, nervous now about what might have gone wrong.

"Where is my lunch?" Anders asked, by way of greeting.

"We're going to have to work on your phone manners." I told him, irritated. "Is that why you called five times, about your lunch?"

"Yes, I cannot find it and I am hungry. Also, there's nothing on television and I am bored." He whined. I sighed.

"Your lunch is in the fridge, in a purple bowl." I told him wearily.

"Wait..." he said, and I could hear him rummaging through the fridge on the other end. "Is this that bean salad from yesterday? I didn't really like that."

"Well, I'm sorry. I'll try to make certain your menu choices are more pleasing to you next time." I retorted.

"When are you coming home?" he demanded.

"I told you, I'll be home after five. And please, don't call me like that unless there's an emergency. I was in a meeting." I told him, trying to suppress my irritation. There was silence on the other end of the line. I looked down at my phone and realized Anders had hung up. Nice. I returned to the meeting, slipped into my seat and wrote "PHONE MANNERS" on my notepad, circling it repeatedly.

* * *

The rest of the day was no better, the lowest point being a client meeting with a utterly reprehensible man who deemed it "cute" that I was an accountant. "Yes, I'm a girl and I like math. That is so crazy!". I was relieved when I looked at the clock and realized it was time to pack up. I had some work that needed to be done, but I could finish it at home on my laptop.

As I trekked out to my car, my mind turned to Anders. I knew he was dealing with culture shock, among other things, so he had every right to feel testy, but his attitude needed some adjusting. I decided to pop into the gourmet deli near the parking garage to pick up something to go with dinner. Maybe a good meal and a nice glass of wine would raise his spirits. And if not, they would certainly raise mine.

I left the deli with a crusty loaf of fresh french bread still warm from the oven, an artisan olive oil and a nice bottle of red wine. Traffic was light on the drive home, and I started feeling the lingering effects of the day slough off me. I had a hot meal to come home to, and decent company. Things weren't all that bad.

When I got home I started trying to situate all of my stuff to bring inside- my laptop bag and briefcase, my purse, and the items I had picked up at the deli. I rang the doorbell in the hopes that Anders would get the door and I wouldn't have to dig my keys out of wherever I had stashed them, but there was no answer. I rang it again, then again, then knocked loudly, and after a moment gave up, sitting down the grocery items and digging through my purse for my keys. I finally found them and opened the door, wincing as the volume on the TV blared out at me.

Anders was sprawled on the couch, still wearing his pajamas from last night. He was surrounded by dishes and silverware, and small litter - a granola bar wrapper here, an empty bag of microwave popcorn there, a banana peel. I struggled through the entry with my arms full, and Anders looked back at me lazily.

"When are we eating?" he asked, watching as I attempted to divest myself of all my bags.

"Maybe after you clean up." I replied irritably.

"Clean up what?" he asked, looking around blankly.

"The mess you've made wallowing in your own filth all day." I snapped at him. He sat up and glared at me.

"I'm sorry if I've been just trying to-"

"Trying to what, Anders? What have you been trying to do?" I asked him, incredulous. "I've worked all day, and now I come home and you haven't cleaned up a thing, you haven't even changed your clothes." _Just_ like being married.

"You '_worked_' all day? Sitting, I'm sure, in front of a screen somewhere, typing? That's your idea of _work_? Yes, I can see how all that sitting would be simply exhausting." He snarled. I was taken aback by the anger in his voice.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, heading for the kitchen with my deli items, trying to act like his snarky comment hadn't wounded me.

"What's wrong with me? What's WRONG with me? This...time, this place, is awful. It is the most passive existence. I could not even have imagined something like this. All you do is sit and take things in. You don't go anywhere, don't do anything. You sit back and you watch, you consume, but you never actually do anything. How can you live this way?" He asked, venom in his voice.

"Well, I'm sorry that you find all this so egregiously offensive. I did not create this society, I have nothing to do with it, I just live in it. And how do you know I don't do anything? You've been here with me for what, three days? So you know everything about me and what I do? No, you do not. You didn't ask to come here, I didn't ask for you to come here, and frankly the last thing I need is a whiny-ass man living in my house, eating my food and making a mess and complaining about what's wrong with the world, as though I have anything to do with it. Not my fault, Anders. So either you shut up and stay, or you can take your outrage and go." Having said my piece, I went into the kitchen and checked on my stew, then started heating up the oven for the bread. Anders was silent and still for a moment, then I heard the unmistakable sounds of cleaning up - the clatter of dishes being stacked, and the rustling of wrappers. He dropped his trash in the garbage can, then walked past me to put his dishes in the sink. He paused behind me, then wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me from behind.

"So I am not allowed to speak about how I feel?" He asked, his voice muffled in my shoulder. I sighed.

"We can talk about how you feel. But don't make it personal, don't take it out on me. Modern societies' ills are not entirely my doing. And please, just clean up after yourself." I told him, reaching behind me and giving his arm a squeeze. He rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Dinner smells good." He remarked, his hands lingering on my waist, one hand moving towards my hip.

"What it buddy, this knife can cut more than just bread." I warned him, showing him the knife I held and squirming out of his grasp. I chose to ignore his sigh. The last thing we needed here was a romantic (or even just physical) entanglement to muddy the waters even more. "Why don't you go grab a shower, and when you get done dinner should be on the table." He wandered to the bathroom as I put the bread in the oven. I wandered into the living room, shutting off the TV, and turned on some music at my computer before returning to the kitchen to ladle stew into bowls.

I was pulling the bread out of the oven when Anders returned to the kitchen, clad in pajama pants and a t-shirt, his long hair damp and hanging around his shoulders. He settled himself at the bar, raising his eyebrows when I presented him with the bottle of wine and an opener.

"Nice! What's the occasion?" He asked, immediately opening the bottle.

"I don't know. Our first fight, maybe?" I teased, cutting the bread and pouring some olive oil and herbs into a small bowl.

"That.." he started, pausing to pour wine, then finishing, "...was not our first fight. We've had at least one other, I believe."

"Well, let's drink to our second fight." I told him, smiling and holding my glass up for a toast. He laughed and did the same, and we dug into our dinner.

We ate, and talked, and laughed. Anders seemed relaxed and easygoing, and I was delighted by his sarcastic sense of humor.

"I'm really enjoying your company, Anders." I told him warmly, taking another sip of wine. He held up the bottle questioningly, offering me another glass, but I demurred. I noticed the way his bicep rippled under his shirt when he moved and reminded myself sternly of my earlier resolve about avoiding romantic or physical entanglement.

"I enjoy your company as well, very much." He told me, pouring himself another glass. "Despite what I may have said earlier, I don't hate it here. I certainly have trouble fitting in, but I find myself quite...calm. Most of the time, anyway."

"I've noticed. I wonder if you're so relaxed because you aren't always having to look over your shoulder here, you're not on the run from anyone. And Justice's absence has to factor into that." I remarked casually, without thinking. Then I realized what I had said and was horrified. _There's that elephant in the room, dummy_, I told myself. _Way to keep bringing it up_. There was no anger or malice on his face, just sadness and confusion. He polished off the rest of his wine and sat the glass off to the side, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back in his seat.

"I think it's time for you to tell me what you know."


	7. Chapter 7

_One ridiculously long and final chapter. I have a writing deadline for work, and I've actually enjoyed writing this so much (trashy though it may be) that it is distracting me from stuff I get paid to do. So what better place to end than with lucky number seven? _

_Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! Posting this early because my awesome reviewers were asking for it._

* * *

"Oh. Um...well..." I stammered, lost for words. I picked up my wine glass and knocked the rest of it back, in need of a little liquid courage. This was going to go poorly. Anders was emotional, and had a temper. No matter how delicately I phrased what I had to say, this conversation was going to end in shouting or tears, or possibly both. Blerg. "Hey, wanna make out?" I asked, seizing on the one thing that might help me to avoid this conversation, and surprising myself when I realized I was half hoping he would agree.

"Yes, but not right now." Anders answered, smiling. I laughed, feeling somewhat more at ease. I heaved a sigh and decided there was nothing to do but to just say it.

"I know you from...a game." I told him, haltingly, trying to choose my words carefully. "A playstation game, actually. You are...a character, in the game. Games, actually, because I haven't played Awakening in years, but I think you were in that, and you were a much bigger character in Dragon Age 2." I was rambling. Maybe that last shot of liquid courage was too much.

"I am a character. In a _game_." He repeated slowly. I watched him with concern, waiting for an outburst. "Go on."

"Well, that's pretty much it. I know your story because you're in the game, your story _is_ the game, sort of. Well, you're not the central character, but you're an important one." I told him gingerly.

"So I am a character. In a game. Not the main character, just a character." He said, mulling over my words. He seemed eerily calm.

"Ye-es." I answered. He was quiet for a moment.

"Show me." He ordered, standing up and walking into the living room, sitting down on the couch and waiting for me expectantly. I didn't move. Was this the best idea, showing him? I wondered. "Sabrina, please show me."

"Ok, Anders, I will, but before that-"

"NOW!" He shouted angrily. "Show me my life, played out as entertainment for other people. SHOW ME!" Ah, that was what I had been waiting for. Even an angry reaction was better than the strange, decidedly un-Anders like calm.

"Alright!" I told him, grabbing the PS3 controller from the TV and joining him on the couch. "Just...just don't get upset."

"Don't get upset?" He repeated, uttering a strangled laugh. "Don't get upset that I am nothing but a character. In a _game_. Oh, don't worry." I eyed him warily as I turned on the TV and the console and queued up the game, waiting as it loaded. The game resumed, showing Hawke, Fenris, Sebastian and game Anders standing idly in the market area of Hightown. I heard Anders suck in his breath rapidly, and he got up and moved closer to the TV.

"That's...um...that's you." I told him gently.

"You think I don't know myself?" He snapped. He pointed at the game version of himself. "That's me. And there's Hawke, and Sebastian, and that damned elf. We're a f*cking game." He spat. I sat the controller down beside me on the couch and stood up to go to him.

"Anders, it will-"

"Don't! Don't say a word." He ordered, looking at the TV. "Show me how you play."

"I don't think-"

"Show me!" He shouted again. I flinched, and he noticed. "I am sorry, but you have to understand..." he trailed off, looking forlorn.

"I can't understand, but I can see how it would be incredibly upsetting. Sort of like the Truman Show, only...totally different. Bad example." He looked confused. "Ok, I'll show you. You just sort of wander around..." I moved Hawke around the market, then started maneuvering around Hightown. "...until you find someone to fight, or until you get where you need to go to complete some task or quest."

"So, what, I just follow Hawke around?" He asked, sitting down and watching. "That's fairly true to life."

"Yes, if I decide to bring you along. I can only bring 3 other people with Hawke, and most of the time I bring you, because of your healing, but sometimes I leave you and bring Merrill." I told him, getting somewhat distracted by a bandit fight that suddenly triggered. He watched with rapt interest as I fought. I switched from fighting as Hawke to fighting as Anders and he was suddenly delighted, laughing.

"Cast a cone of cold." He instructed me. This was starting to become very surreal for me, as well. "So, Hawke is the center of this universe?"

"Yes." I answered honestly, as the fight concluded.

"She would be." He mumbled sullenly. "Talk to me."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Talk to me. Have Hawke talk to me, I want to see it."

"Well, it doesn't really work that way in this game. If I try and talk to you while we're away from your clinic, you basically just blow me off. And you only talk to me in your clinic if there's some plot point that needs to be advanced, or if I need to complete a companion quest for you." I told him regretfully."There's nothing to talk with you about right now, so I won't be able to."

"That's stupid." He observed.

"Absolutely, it is." I agreed. "You'll just say something like 'let's talk another time' or some similar brush off. Honestly, you're kind of a dick."

"I am a what?" he asked, half a smile on his face.

"You're kind of...I don't know, distant. Unapproachable. Especially in the third act of the game. Whether I'm romancing you or not."

"And are you? Romancing me?" He asked, mischievously.

"Nope." I told him matter-of-factly, laughing as his face fell. "Team Fenris, all the way."

"So that is why you kept asking me about Fenris after I had first...arrived. I must confess, I'm a little hurt."

"Sorry." I said, unconvincingly. "Fenris isn't a terrorist."

"A what? What are you insinuating that I am?" He asked, looking confused.

"You're a terrorist, you brought...bring...whatever, you killed innocent people for the sake of your own personal beliefs. You imposed your position on people who weren't even involved, forced a war on everyone, all for the sake of what _you_ think is right. No one else got a say. Even in a video game, it's a disgusting thing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He said, bewildered.

"The chantry? The explosion?" I reminded him. "Ring a bell, any of that?" He was quiet for a moment.

"I...remember a vague idea. Justice was heavily involved in all of that. Now that he's gone, it's all very...unclear. Like he was the driver, and I was just a passenger." Anders said, looking thoughtful.

"Well, it's always good to have someone to blame for our actions." I snarked. He looked wounded.

"You are angry." He noted.

"I'm not angry, I just...hate what you did. Do. Did. Whatever, I thought it sucked, and I romanced you on my first playthrough, and was so bummed about what happened in the end." I tried to explain. "I mean, it's a game. But it's a good game, for the most part, and it draws you in. It's hard to explain."

"A lot about our entire situation is hard to explain." He pointed out. I nodded. He moved closer to me on the couch, taking the playstation controller out of my hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he sat down right beside me. My heart started racing.

"Taking you up on your offer from earlier." He said casually, bending down and kissing me. I was taken aback at first, uncertain as to how I should respond. There were so many reasons not to do this, I attempted to rationalize, as he wrapped his arms around me and deepened the kiss. I finally threw caution to the wind and returned the kiss, fervently. After a moment he pulled back, surprised and smiling.

"I'll break your heart." He told me. I recognized it as a line from the game.

"I might like...oh, hell, I don't remember the damn dialogue. Shut up and kiss me."

* * *

I woke up the next morning, groggy from the wine and the evening's events. I sat up and looked around my bedroom, noticing it appeared as though a tornado had gone through it. There were blankets tossed everywhere, pillow squashed in between the bed and the wall, articles of clothing strewn wildly around. _Damn_, I thought to myself. _Impressive_. Anders stirred beside me, wrapping his arms around me.

"Stay in bed with me." He murmured sleepily.

"I wish I could." I told him regretfully. "But I have to go to work."

"Or...or, you could just stay here in bed with me." He offered, smiling. I leaned down and kissed his cheek, then slipped out of his arms. I walked over to my closet, and noticed something on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Anders, are these your socks on the floor?" I asked, laughing. Too funny.

"Probably." He replied, frowning. "Our clothes are scattered everywhere. Why is that so funny?"

"No reason."

* * *

So we settled into a homey routine, Anders and I. He got better about picking up after himself, and even cooked for me a couple of times. We still fought occasionally - we were two incredibly stubborn, incredibly sarcastic people living together, but despite our fights we were happy, and eventually, as in love as a woman and a fictional character from a video game could possibly be.

Anders played entirely through Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age 2. It was fascinating to hear a first person perspective on the story, but became irritating at times, like watching Glee with someone in a show chorus, I supposed. If you watched Glee or knew someone in a show chorus (I do not). He played through Dragon Age 2 as a male mage, and even named himself Anders. He of course decided to romance himself, prompting me to remark after the first love scene, "I would tell you to go f*ck yourself but you just did." He laughed and kissed me until I was breathless.

Thanks to some extensive internet research, Anders was able to learn enough about holistic healing practices to manage his cover story in a social setting, so we were able to go out as a couple. We went out with my friends a few times, and I even brought him to a work event.

"So tomorrow, you will have been here for four months." I told him one evening, as we were cleaning up dinner dishes. He raised his eyebrows.

"That long? It doesn't feel like it." He replied.

"Do you still miss...it?"

"'_It_' being what, my life?" Anders asked, amused. "Yes, to a certain extent. And although I am very happy here with you, I still feel as though my life here is quite...purposeless."

"Maybe you were sent here to please me." I teased him, winking.

"I _was_ made to please the ladies." He replied. I laughed.

"Would you care to prove that statement?" I asked him playfully, popping him with the dish towel.

"I would like nothing better than to prove that statement." He told me, gallantly picking me up and carrying me to the back of the house towards my bedroom. He laid me gently on the bed and kissed me.

"I'll break your heart." I told him, the start of an exchange that had become our running joke.

"Shut up and kiss me." He answered. So I did.

* * *

"Anders, can you, you know...are you...shooting blanks, or what?" I asked him one night. "I was just wondering because you're..well, you're real, but you're not...you know, real, so..."

"Are you asking if I could impregnate you?" He asked, amused.

"Yes." I answered, feeling stupid. "Not that I want you to! I was just...curious."

"I don't know. I would guess so? Better safe than sorry."

"Absolutely." I agreed.

"Did you just say that I am not real?" He asked.

"In that you're too good to be true!" I answered quickly. He laughed.

"I knew what you meant, my love." He told me, stroking my hair fondly. I buried my face in his chest.

"I don't want this to end. I feel selfish to say that, because I know your life here sucks, but this...being here with you...has been amazing." I told him.

"I'll break your heart." He told me, sadness in his voice.

"Shut up and kiss me." I answered, determined not to think about it.

* * *

I had worked all day, then gone to dinner with a client, leaving Anders on his own for the entire day. The dinner had been excruciating, the client very handsy, full of innuendo about where we could go after dinner. I had finally been forced turn him down outright, and he had lashed out rudely. I was tired and very out of sorts when I finally arrived home.

Anders was sitting on the sofa watching Netflix, surrounded by beer bottles and Taco Bell wrappers.  
"Hey sweetheart." He called over his shoulder. I seethed.

"Looks like you've had a busy night." I remarked coldly.

"Yeah, it was pretty good. Stephen stopped by, and we watched some baseball together. That is a boring game." He told me, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"Well, I'm glad someone enjoyed themselves tonight." I told him, dropping my purse and sitting down on the couch. "I could go for a beer."

"Then you'll have to go out, because Steve and I finished them all." He told me absentmindedly. "Oh, hey, when you get beer, grab me some doughnuts. That sounds good."

"Why don't you go get your own doughnuts, and might I offer a suggestion as to where, precisely, you can shove them, once they have been obtained."

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, looking wounded.

"Only that I have been dealing with work crap all day, and get to come home to the smell of taco and beer farts."

"Yes, because you're the only person in this house that does anything?" He replied. "Poor Sabrina. Spend all day sitting on your ass, then get paid to go to dinner. I'm so sorry for you."

"I'm not the only person in this house that spends the entire day on their ass." I snarked back at him. "And at least I get paid to do it." I regretted it as soon as I had said it.

"That...you know...I can't...ouch, Sabrina." He said, hurt. I felt bad. He couldn't help it that he couldn't get a job, and he felt bad enough about it without me using it against him.

"I'll break your heart?" I said questioningly, smiling meekly. It took him a while to answer, and I was starting to worry that he was too upset to play our little game.

"Shut up and kiss me." He finally said, almost begrudgingly.

"Oh, I'll do more than kiss you." I told him, smiling at him beguilingly and taking his hand to lead him back to the bedroom.

"Ok, but I was serious about the shutting up." He told me, winking.

* * *

"I love lazy Sunday mornings." I told Anders, as we lounged in bed.

"I like the fact that you can't escape my clutches for work." He told me, squeezing me tightly against him.

"Well, I do have church." I reminded him, checking the clock.

"The weather is terrible." He told me, as thunder rolled across the sky outside. "That's a sign that you're to stay here, in bed with me."

"So you're saying I should stay in bed with you, instead of going to church?" I asked him, laughing. "Not so sure about that."

"What can I do to convince you to stay?" He asked, nuzzling my neck.

"Well, that certainly helps your case," I told him. "There's still an hour before I need to go. I think we should make the most of it."

"Don't you need to shower? I could always join you there, if you could use some assistance." He suggested, leering at me.

"I have always enjoyed water sports. Let's go."

Later, after exhausting the hot water and lingering for a while under the cold, we made our way out of the bathroom, shivering and spent. I was dressing in front of my closet when Anders hugged me from behind, kissing my neck.

"I'll break your heart." He said, his hands moving down my hips.

"And I'll break your pelvis, when I get back from church." I told him, laughing. "You can wait for an hour, can't you?"

"I suppose." He said, faking a pout. "You have to finish it."

"Finish what?" I asked, as I pulled my hair up into a messy bun.

"Finish it. I said I'll break your heart, and you say..."

"Oh. Shut up and kiss me." I told him, pecking his cheek.

"I'm serious, Sabrina. That...means a lot to me, silly as it sounds. It's something special, only you and I have. And I don't have many special things here, so...always finish it. Promise me you'll always finish it." He looked serious, and I was touched.

"I promise I'll always finish it." I told him seriously, holding his face in my hands. "And later, when I get back, I'll finish you."

"Lecherous woman. Leave for church already!" He ordered me, grinning.

* * *

I left church and drove home through the dreary weather, looking forward to being able to spend it inside with Anders. I stopped at a bakery on the way home and picked up some pastries for him, and hurriedly drove home.

"I brought you something sweet!" I called out as I entered the house. "And some doughnuts!" I laughed. I hummed as I walked into the kitchen and sat down the pastries. "Anders!"

There was no answer. I thought he might be asleep, or at least in bed pretending to be asleep, so I headed back to the bedroom, doffing my clothes as I went, feeling foolish when I discovered the bedroom was empty.

He's at Mary's house, I decided. I put on some casual clothes and made my way to my there, knocking on the door. After a moment Mary answered the door in her robe.

"You two been busy?" I asked her jokingly, raising an eyebrow. "What's up with the robe?"

"What?" She asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Anders!" I told her, smiling. "He's not home, so I figured he was over here."

"He's not here, Sabrina." She told me. A little alarm was starting to go off in my brain, one I hastily pushed far, far away.

"He hasn't been here at all today?" I asked her again. She shook her head.

"Is everything ok?" She asked, concerned.

"I don't know." I answered honestly, starting to be concerned myself. "If you see him, will you let me know?"

"Sure." she answered. "I hope everything is ok. You and that young man have made each other incredibly happy these last few months."

"Yes, we have." I answered, distracted. "I'll see you later." I headed back to my house, still determinedly not thinking about what his absence would mean. Maybe he had walked to the store. Maybe Stephen had picked him up and taken him somewhere. Maybe...ugh. This sucked.

I went back home and thoroughly checked out every nook and cranny in the house, in order to be absolutely certain that he was not there. Every time I ruled out another possibility, my heart sank some more.

I walked up to the corner store myself, asking the clerk if she had seen Anders. The store was the one place Anders was able to go on his own, because it was within walking distance, so she knew him fairly well.

"Haven't seen him all day, honey. I figured you two were keeping each other busy at home." The clerk told me with a wink. I laughed weakly, then thanked her and headed back home. I called Stephen as I walked, asking him if he had maybe stopped by and picked Anders up.

"No, I haven't talked to him in a few days." He answered. "Everything ok?"

"He wasn't home when I got home, so I'm just trying to figure out where he is." I said, my lip trembling. I didn't want him to be gone, I wasn't ready for him to be gone. It had been so long, I was secretly starting to hope that he was here for good.

"Surely he wouldn't leave to go back to England without letting you know?" Stephen asked. I teared up.

"Not if he could help it, he wouldn't." I answered, fairly certain it was the truth.

"Not if he could help it? What does that mean?" Stephen asked, confused.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm sure it's fine and will all work itself out. Thanks, Steve." I hung up the phone as I got back to the house. I wandered around inside, pacing until I couldn't stand it any longer, then went and got in the car and drove mindlessly around the neighborhood. Maybe he went for a walk, I decided. He never did that, but maybe today he decided to. In the rain. It made no sense, but at this point I was clinging to any hope. I was almost home when I saw lightning flash across the sky, and in that moment I knew for sure.

He was gone.

Whatever had brought him here, had taken him back. Once I pulled into the driveway I stopped the car and sobbed, a huge ugly cry, complete with hitching breaths and a completely stopped up nose and a headache. Once I was temporarily spent, I went inside and collapsed on the couch to cry some more.

Some time later, the doorbell rang. I ran to the door and wrenched it open, hoping that maybe I was wrong, maybe it was Anders, but it was Mary. My disappointment must have been clear on my face.

"Geez, I'm glad to see you too." She said. "I came to see how you were doing. From the looks of things, not so well."

"He's gone, Mary." I told her, breaking down again. "He's gone."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry." She told me, coming in and leading me to the couch. We sat down and she pulled my head over to her shoulder. "You just go ahead and cry, my dear. Get it out." So I did, sobbing in between bursts of talking fondly of Anders and our time together.

I was exhausted from all the crying, and drifted off at one point, sleeping for a short while. I woke up abruptly, stricken with panic.

"Is Anders back?" I asked Mary, who was sitting on the couch eating a sandwich.

"No, sweetheart, he's not, I'm sorry." She told me sadly. "But I did make you a sandwich, if you're hungry. Also, here's a note I found by the TV that you'll want to see." I scrabbled for the note, impatiently rubbing sleep from my eyes, and read it:

"I'll break your heart" it said, in hastily scrawled script. The tears came again, and I collapsed onto the couch, sobbing.

"Shut up and kiss me." I whispered aloud. I hoped that he knew I had finished it. I had promised, after all.

* * *

I never told anyone about where Anders really came from, because...well, because that would be insane. To explain his absence to those that noticed, I just said that he had been called back to England for a family emergency and didn't have time before leaving to let me know. Despite never having made any sort of formal announcement, people knew what we had meant to each other and treated me gingerly.

Another thing I would never admit to was playing through Awakening and Dragon Age 2, focused intently on Anders, like I was waiting for some sort of sign from him. I knew it was crazy as I was doing it, but it didn't stop me. I had to turn the game off during my Dragon Age 2 playthrough when he told Hawke "I'll break your heart.", just immediately shutting it off. It took me a month before I even wanted to play again. As time had passed I was feeling better, the time I had spent with Anders now seemed like some distant dream. My Hawke engaged Anders in conversation, and I sat and waited for it.

"I'll break your heart." Game-Anders told her. I sighed.

"_Shut up and kiss me_." I whispered.


End file.
